I never was a Poet you made me One

I never was a Poet you made me One
Originally uploaded by firozeshakirphotographerno1

A little speck of dirt lodged in her eye,
She thought she would wipe it away
Before it made her cry.
Enbalmed to her soul
Is my love on a clothesline
Kissing and flapping seductively to dry.
Her body belongs to her beloved
Her spirit mingles with mine.
She is someone elses sun
I live off her sunshine.
I Love you ...Yes I do
And to my harboured thoughts resign.
What is poetry but sweetened prose
Wombless umbilically connected to her online.
I never was a poet you made me one...
Rubbing salt to my wounds
Scars on my Indian back that pine
And bleed tear drops
That taste like Italian Wine.